Chapter Fourteen

Solan watched his mother direct the town around her, an island of calm in amongst the worry and fear. Even the mayor and the town’s politicians deferred to her, listening intently as she gave instructions and hurrying to obey her. She sent the children and the elderly into the center of town, where the town hall stood, and informed everyone remaining to gather their weapons but to stay in their homes unless they were told to move. He glanced to the corner of the porch, where Ceridwen and Lokan stood in silence, both of them ignoring the looks the people of Arian Mawr sent their way. Kyr and Torin had been sent inside to avoid presenting an easy target for someone’s anger and fear, though Solan was pretty sure they were watching from the window that looked out over the street. He looked back to his mother and she spared him a smile before turning back to reassure the mayor that they weren’t all to be murdered in their beds. Solan contrasted these Fae with the soldiers and the wild Fae he’d spent the past few years with, and had to cough to hide a sudden, inappropriate snicker. The crowd dispersed much slower than they’d arrived, until finally Solan was alone on the porch with his mother, Lokan, and Ceridwen. He saw how tired his mother looked suddenly and went to put an arm around her, a little afraid. “You don’t have to do this all by yourself,” he said. “The Fae army’s on their way. We might even be able to block them from reaching Arian Mawr.” “No, I think it’s too late for that.” She touched his cheek lightly and looked at Lokan. “I promised to kill you if you ever used my town for your own purposes again.” “At least wait until we’ve won the war and don’t have a human army breathing down our necks,” Lokan said dryly. “Solan makes his own choice.” The wind gusted briefly, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, and Solan shivered a little at its cold bite, but neither his mother nor Lokan seemed to notice, their gazes locked together. “He always has,” Lokan said after a heartbeat. The ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “He’s his mother’s son, after all.” “You two know I hate cryptic bullshit?” Solan said, looking between them. “Sorry for swearing, Mom. You want to use me to cast wild magic again, right? You basically said as much to the General. Lokan, what if I say no?” Lokan’s eyes flicked towards him, their purple almost black. There was another beat of silence, then he smiled slightly and said, “Then you say no, little Fae. Best make your choice fast, though. We’re going to war again, in case you haven’t noticed.” Solan looked at him for a few long minutes, taking in the shadows still under his eyes, the empty space over his curls where the antlers should have been. He took his time, letting his thoughts fall into order, and looked out over the frosty streets. Lights blazed in houses all along their street and he could feel the electric tension in the air like a current running through him, setting his heart beating a little too fast. He looked back at his mother and met her eyes, then leaned in to kiss her cheek and said to Lokan, “Where do we do it?” “There.” Lokan pointed to the hill they’d stood on before, when he’d seen his mother destroy the leading edge of the human army. “Fine. Kyr and Torin are coming with us.” He expected Lokan to argue, but Lokan only nodded. “We’ll try to stop them before they even reach town. But if they do...” “I will be your second line of defense,” his mother said. The wind snapped briefly and overhead dark clouds scudded across the sunlight. “Between us we will end this war, once and for all.” “Ceridwen.” Lokan nodded to one of the trucks and after giving Solan a quick hug that squeezed most of the air out of his lungs, Ceridwen pulled herself into the truck and backed out of the driveway. “Go get your human,” Lokan said when the truck was gone towards the outskirts of town. “We don’t have much time left.” Solan didn’t bother to argue, turning on his heel and going into the house. Kyr and Torin met him at the bottom of the stairs, their expressions saying they’d been listening as well as watching. He saw Kyr open his mouth to protest then shut it again when Torin elbowed him hard in the ribs, and couldn’t help a laugh. Pulling them both into a hug, he thanked them quietly for their help and felt Torin give him a rough hug in return before gently untangling himself and going out onto the porch. “I will never forgive you if you get yourself killed doing that asshole’s bidding,” Kyr said. “I mean it.” “I’m not doing anyone’s bidding. This is my town too, and my fight.” Solan kissed his forehead. “Just come with me.” “Yeah, like I wouldn’t.” Kyr’s arms tightened around his waist. “Me and Torin, we’ll guard you with our fuckin’ lives.” “I love you,” Solan said, just in case, then took Kyr’s hand and led him out to the porch. No one spoke on the short drive out to the hill that overlooked the town and the surrounding countryside. The air seemed fresher than Solan had ever breathed when he got out of the truck and he took a deep breath of it, holding it in his lungs until he was forced to let it out and take another. He watched the sunlight washing over the surrounding countryside, trying to hide how badly his hands were trembling by sticking them in his coat pockets, and jumped when Lokan put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, little Fae,” Lokan murmured, turning him away from the town. In the distance he could see a great cloud of dust and sparkles of light where the sun flashed off metal. “Here they come. This is the last of it, one way or another. Can you stand steady?” “Steady enough.” Solan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then pulled away just enough to strip off his coat and the shirt underneath, shivering a little as the cool air washed over his bare skin. The tattoo on the back of his shoulder itched and squirmed like something alive, but it steadied like his breathing when Lokan gently laid a big hand over it. “Shit, I’m scared. Sorry.” Lokan only squeezed his shoulder and he glanced back to see Kyr and Torin standing close together, both of them holding their rifles steady in their arms. Torin gave him a slight nod and he returned it before looking away from the bleakness in Kyr’s eyes and watching the first heavy truck come into distant view. “Ceridwen and the rest of the army will hit them from the side,” Lokan said softly, “but they still need some time. Are you ready?” “Ready as I’ll ever be. Shut up and do it.” He felt the jolt as Lokan pulled on whatever was inside him, using it to bring up a roiling mass of black clouds in the sky above them. The light faded from the day until it was as grey as twilight, tinged a weird green. Purple lightning flared through the clouds, sparking into white and blue at its ends, and a long low rumble of thunder shook the air and the ground they were standing on. A few small drops of mixed rain and snow fell, and Solan felt the hairs all over his body stand on end. The wind gusted almost hard enough to stagger him but he held firm, pressing back into the hand Lokan held pressed against his shoulder. The snow came first, whipping past in growing flakes on the teeth of the cold wind. It spun towards the approaching vehicles, a curtain of twisting, dancing whiteness. Solan watched it for a moment, feeling curiously detached, then glanced to the side at more movement. He thought at first it was Ceridwen and the remaining Fae, but Lokan made an angry noise and he realized it was another section of the human army, sweeping past in an attempt to flank and escape the incoming blizzard. He felt another tug deep inside him as Lokan called on more power, sending the wind screaming past the second half of the army. Thunder boomed overhead and a distant part of Solan heard Kyr swear softly. Despite the goosebumps pebbling his skin and the chill of the wind all around them, he no longer felt the cold except where Lokan’s hand pressed against his skin. He blinked snow out of his eyes and braced himself against another tug of power, feeling his eyes already begin to grow heavy. The black clouds above them stretched down a delicate finger towards the second half of the army, narrow and winding until it touched the ground. It grew as it encountered the leading edge of trucks, expanding until it roared and shook the ground like a speeding train. Solan saw the trucks desperately try to outrun it and silently urged them to turn away before it was too late. His world narrowed down to the blizzard and the tornado, until he felt Lokan stagger against him, his heavy weight almost knocking them both down. “Stay up,” Solan managed through numb lips, watching the tornado falter. It tattered and trucks began to come through again, passing the wreckage of companions without slowing. “Lokan!” “There’s not enough,” Lokan said, breathing hard, his voice a growl. “Still not enough.” Solan closed his eyes briefly and thought of his mother, then reached down without knowing how he was doing it, memories of growing up in Arian Mawr flashing through his mind. The ground shifted underneath him and he felt magic slam into and through him, replacing the blood in his veins as it flowed to Lokan’s command. He jerked and bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed, though neither the pain nor the blood in his mouth registered, and still the magic flowed through him. The tornado spun back into existence, white with the snow it was pulling up into its funnel, and met the blizzard. A white wall of whirling snow stretched across the roads, hiding everything from sight, but through some trick of sound Solan clearly heard the screech of brakes and once, a terrified scream. His stomach twisted and he leaned forward just enough to throw up, tasting blood this time, in the back of his throat. Warmth trickled slowly down his upper lip and he reached up groggily to touch it, bringing his fingers away red with blood. Someone yelled nearby but he couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, and it didn’t seem to matter anyway. He wasn’t even sure whether he was supporting Lokan or Lokan was supporting him, but the power still burned through him, replacing everything he was with itself, and flung itself at the human army by Lokan’s will. He wondered briefly if this was how his mother felt and how she could stand it without flaring up and burning out. His skin felt too tight, as though he’d been sitting too close to a fire, and he could feel what was left of his own mind being dragged slowly out into the whirling maelstrom he and Lokan had conjured up. He only realized he’d gone down on his knees, pulling Lokan with him through the bond he didn’t think either of them could break now if they tried, when he felt another rush of power go through him, pulled up from the dead brown grass beneath him. He felt the town like another person, so old and so steeped in wild magic that it was almost alive, in a slow and ponderous way. It loved its people and it loved his mother most of all, and through his mother it loved him, enough to kill him to protect itself. He screamed despite himself, the sound almost lost in the snarl of the wind, and forced himself to hold steady, even as he began to lose himself completely. The darkness of the clouds descended on him, shadowing his eyes, and a small, safe part of his mind knew he was going to lose consciousness, allowing the power to move through him unimpeded until it killed him and Lokan both. He rebelled against the thought—for Lokan’s life if nothing else—but his strength was rapidly fading and the power here was stronger than he could ever be. He fought the blackness sweeping over him and lost, spiralling down until there was nothing but the dark.